Just For One Day
by ithaswhatitisnt
Summary: What does she know, and why won't she tell him? Why does she look at him that way? And why does she take his hand and squeeze it so sadly? A slightly fluffy AU-ish Booker/Elizabeth famfic.


This takes place shortly after first meeting Elizabeth, once Booker is washed up onto the boardwalk. I like to think that maybe in another universe, perhaps where Comstock isn't as bad a tyrant as he usually is, Elizabeth and Booker can take some time to just _be_. Not to mention...I would think that out of game, perhaps Elizabeth and Booker could see each other as father and daughter, respectively. It'd be nice if they could just have a little fun. I don't own BioShock, Booker, Elizabeth, the Luteces, or Columbia.

* * *

"Elizabeth," Booker tried again, but she just danced away from him, pirouetting into the happy crowd on the boardwalk. Booker could understand only a sliver of where her enthusiasm came from. Granted, if he had been locked in a tower since birth, he would have rejoiced to be out as well, but Elizabeth was taking it too far the other way. When she returned to his side, there was a palpable sadness in her eyes, though the smile never left her face.

"Booker, dance with me," she requested, and he couldn't help but feel something was very wrong. She had never addressed him by his first name.

"I don't dance," he grunted in reply, and Elizabeth frowned.

"Fine." She ceased her dancing and took his hand firmly. Booker recoiled at her touch, but she squeezed his hand as if in apology. "Where do you feel like going?"

"Elizabeth, what's wrong?" he blurted out. She wouldn't look him in the eyes and it was driving him mad.

"Nothing's wrong, Booker," she sighed. "Can't I just want a nice day?"

"Yeah." Booker said nothing more, and Elizabeth tugged on his hand to get him moving. He could've done without the hand-holding; Elizabeth definitely seemed old enough to be independent. But she insisted, so he went along with it.

 _Something must be off with her_ , Booker thought. Why else was she acting like a child? She insisted on holding his hand. Before he knew it, he and Elizabeth were doing things together that Booker had only ever heard the other Pinkertons discussing. _Come to think of it_ , he mused, _they only mentioned doing this stuff with their kids_. Booker stared at that back of Elizabeth's bobbing head as she was trying to decide where they should go next, and he desperately tried to imagine her as Anna. _I wonder how Anna would look now…if she had gotten the chance to grow up, I would want her to be as pretty and smart as Elizabeth…_ Said Elizabeth jerked Booker toward a shooting gallery, and he tried to shrug out of her amazingly strong grip.

"C'mon, give it a try! Please, Booker? You have fantastic aim!" she encouraged. "Besides, I really want a stuffed Songbird." Booker stared at her, an aghast look on his face.

"You can't be serious, Elizabeth? After all that's happened to you…being locked inside Monument Island…?"

"Come on, Booker, please? I've never had a stuffed animal before. Please?" she wheedled, shuffling her feet. Booker saw the way her eyes sparkled when she mentioned 'stuffed animal', and that small glimpse of potential happiness was all he needed to make his decision.

"Okay, fine. Stand aside, kid," he grumbled. He didn't miss the way Elizabeth clapped her hands like a little girl, and he inwardly smiled. _She can be Anna, just for today_ , he thought happily. He took the fake rifle from the barker and shot the Devil three times, as requested.

"We have a winner!" the barker crowed. He pulled down the largest stuffed Songbird available on the shelf, and handed it to Booker, who in turn handed it to Elizabeth.

"Here you go," Booker said triumphantly. Elizabeth hugged the toy, swinging it around in an enormous circle around her.

"It's so soft!" she squealed. "Thank you!"

Over by the concession stand, the Lutece twins observed this small frivolous display of affection.

"Hates, hated, will hate," Rosalind observed, turning to her brother and waiting for his typical antonym of a response. But this time, he simply took a bite of the hot dog he had been given and placed his hand on Rosalind's shoulder.

"Loves, loved, will love," he insisted, glancing after the retreating Elizabeth and Booker. He could see from the smile on Booker's face that Elizabeth had likely already told him, and for Robert, that was enough.

"I don't see what you're so over the moon about," Rosalind scoffed. "They're just a father and daughter doing familial tasks."

"Ah, but don't you see, sister? _The knowledge of being father and daughter was unknown_!"

"I suppose," Rosalind allowed. "Really, brother, you're so sentimental." Robert said nothing, and Rosalind suppressed a smile. At least he could be happy with that knowledge.

* * *

Oh, Robert. Always the sap, haha. Please review!


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